


The Mangle

by narcolepticSeamstress



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: But it doesnt tell you everything all at once, Hallucinations, Hard to explain, Its more.... suggestive, Original Character(s), The Mangle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:56:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narcolepticSeamstress/pseuds/narcolepticSeamstress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Night is a bad time for you. You hallucinate often, and there's no way for them to protect you from the figure on the other side of the window. Your only choice is to run for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mangle

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on my nightly experience with The Mangle, and a series of events that actually happened to me. Unfortunately, this story is not complete or full because I don't remember what happened after she bit me.

Its late. Your homework is finally done, much to the later chagrin of your parents. However, you’re reluctant to go to bed, to move from the safe pool of light that surrounds the dining room table. You go through your bag again; three times actually, making sure that there’s nothing else you can do to stall, to grab for more time. You want to stay awake as long as you can, even if it means that tomorrow will be that much harder. She’s closer to you than your room.

  
Accepting the fact that there is no way to stall anymore, you prepare to run to your room, like you’ve done every night for the past few months. Cold fear already pooling in your belly, the fear that maybe this time she’ll catch you; in a snap of sharp teeth, she’ll have your head turned into a bloody lump. The gruesome image makes you think of all the stereotypical, idiot teenagers in terrible horror movies.

  
You stand up, taking a deep, shaky breath. You avoid looking at the window, because you already know she’s standing there, she’s there in the corner of your eye. Too soon, you’re standing at the edge of the safe zone. She’s standing there too, just on the other side of the glass, waiting for her chance to strike. Hand on the light switch, a single tear slides down your cheek, the dark hall looming ahead.

  
The light goes out when you flick the switch.

  
She moves fast, and you hear the loud clanging of her necks hitting each other as she phases through the glass. The sound is slightly jarring, and it surprises you, giving her a second head start before you take off, running down the hall. Expertly dodging the furniture in the living room, you can see the bedrooms just beyond it. You can see the light from your sister’s clock, and the door is just before that, and your bed just beyond that.

  
Today your mom bought a case for your video games. Seeing it too late, you careen right into it, crashing to the floor in a pile of dvd boxes and controllers. Before you can recover from the pain in your side and get up, she’s on you, holding you down with the weight of mechanic insides. Sharp teeth lined inside a steel jaw, inches from your frontal lobe. She’s got you, and you can’t help but smile because it could all finally be over. Jaw snapping open, there is a sudden metallic shine as the light catches her teeth, and you could have counted them in that moment. Her jaw closes over your head.

  
The next morning you wake up with a terrible headache, one that you know will last through the day. A familiar shadow person is next to you in bed, their long tail draped over you protectively. There’s an open wound on their shoulder, one you’re going to have to bandage after showering. They must have fought them off and saved your sorry ass. That’s definitely going to cost you a box of lollipops. Your dad sticks his head in through the doorway and looks at you in annoyance once again as he repeats that you’re going to be late. Petting the tail on your hip discreetly, you stand up; your dad can’t see them anyway, so what does it matter. Soon enough, you end up under the warm spray of the shower, washing the wound on their shoulder. You smile because the look in their eye tells you she’ll be back tonight.


End file.
